


Out Sick

by bigsoftboy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon-Typical Disregard for Selfcare, Gen, Improper Post-op Care, Pre-Canon, Trans Jonathan Sims, Trans Male Character, Trans Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24093859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigsoftboy/pseuds/bigsoftboy
Summary: Tim isn’t an idiot. He’s noticed the forceful, carefully crafted gruff tone Jon uses around the office that occasionally slips, the characteristic way he slouches his shoulders forward, and there’s something about his face that sets off bells in his head. He supposes he could be wrong in his assumption, that perhaps he’s just projecting from his own experiences, but he’s probably eighty-five, maybe ninety percent sure that his co-worker is trans.-Jon doesn't follow proper post-op care requirements and Tim takes notice.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 549





	Out Sick

**Author's Note:**

> This started with an idea I had about Jon not taking proper care of himself after top surgery and then grew into this when my friend @fioblah suggested Tim being trans and taking notice.
> 
> Takes place in 2014 about a year after Tim starts as a researcher!

Tim isn’t an idiot.

He’s noticed the forceful, carefully crafted gruff tone Jon uses around the office that occasionally slips, the characteristic way he slouches his shoulders forward, and there’s something about his face that sets off bells in his head. He supposes he could be wrong in his assumption, that perhaps he’s just projecting from his own experiences, but he’s probably eighty-five, maybe ninety percent sure that his co-worker is trans. Not that Jon doesn’t pass incredibly well, no. It’s just that after years of observing those near-universal traits both in support groups and in yourself, you become attuned to so many subtleties that others would never notice.

He also knows better than to say anything about it, even if it’s to express support. Jon has made no indication of wanting others to know that he’s trans, and he has also made it _exceedingly_ clear that he has no interest in friendly banter, so there’s really no reason for Tim to bring it up beyond the selfish desire to confirm his suspicions.

Then Jon suddenly takes sick-leave for a full week. In the year that Tim’s been working at the Institute, Jon has never once taken off sick, so the fact that he’s gone for a week is somewhat alarming. While concerned, Tim doesn’t think much else of it until Jon’s return the following Monday.

It takes him nearly an hour to notice the way that Jon keeps his arms close to his chest, how he can’t seem to find a position to sit in comfortably, how he’s only wearing a loose button-up shirt, unaccompanied by one of his usual jumpers. Once he notices, he does his best to watch Jon inconspicuously, because _no way the man is thick enough to get top surgery and then come back to work after only a_ week _._

About four hours into the day he watches Jon rise and approach a filing cabinet before hesitating, eyeing one of the upper drawers with a look of poorly concealed dismay and frustration. At this point, Tim _knows_ , but he waits, seeing what Jon does next. He knows Jon well enough by now that he probably wouldn’t take too kindly to being “treated like a child,” so he’ll have to wait for him to ask for help.

So he waits.

And waits.

And keeps waiting, until forty-five minutes have passed and Jon is just sat back at his desk, staring daggers at the filing cabinet as if it had personally affronted him. Tim sighs, rising from his desk.

It takes Jon a moment to notice Tim standing over him, and he stares up at him reproachfully when he does.

“Can I help you?” he says waspishly, but Tim notes that his tone lacks some of its usual bite. He notices how uncomfortable and, Tim presumes, pained he looks, and so he simply smiles, unfazed.

“Was actually about to ask you the same question,” he replies. He doesn’t raise his voice in the way he usually does when teasing Jon, not wanting to draw attention to this particular dilemma. Everyday matters were one thing, this was much more personal.

For a moment it seems like Jon’s going to dismiss the offer but then a resigned look crosses his face and he huffs, nodding his head towards the filing cabinet.

“I need the supplemental paperwork on Elizabeth Sorkin’s statement from the top drawer, can’t reach, pulled a muscle last week,” he mutters, trailing off, and Tim raises an eyebrow at him.

“Pulled a muscle, did you?” he asks, aiming for a gentler tone. His comment is met by one of the coldest looks he thinks Jon has ever given him.

“Yes,” Jon says sharply, glaring at him. “If you’re just here to interrogate me I’ll ask you to leave, I have other work to catch up on.”

Tim raises his hands as if to say he won’t push it, walking over to the cabinet and extracting the papers that Jon had been brooding over for close to an hour now. He feels a slight tightness in his own—now long healed—chest as he reaches up, and imagines with a twinge what Jon may have attempted had Tim not offered him assistance. 

He drops the file down on Jon’s desk lightly, to which he receives a quietly muttered “thank you.” As Jon turns to resume his work, Tim watches him carefully. Jon looks back up at him with a somewhat irritated look on his face.

“Something else you had to say?” he asks tersely, and Tim senses an air of apprehension underlying the words. Tim just watches him discerningly, and notices as Jon’s irritation begins to melt away into trepidation under his gaze. He sighs.

“Look, I can’t force you to leave, but you and I both know you shouldn’t be back here yet,” he says quietly, and he watches as Jon’s face goes blank, eyes giving away the quiet terror that’s run cold through his veins. “Give yourself a break Jon, you haven’t taken _any_ time off the whole year I’ve worked here, you need to _recover_. Work will still be here when you get back, and if you’d like I can cover some of your statements while you’re out. Just… take care of yourself. Two weeks minimum.”

Jon is silent for a moment and Tim makes no move to leave, wanting Jon to understand that he’s serious.

“...You knew?” comes the unexpected response, and Tim is momentarily taken aback by how softly the question is posed. Jon looks less fearful now but still gives off the impression that he’s been cornered, and Tim guiltily supposes that he has. He shrugs.

“Suspected,” he admits. He gestures towards the bag next to his own desk, adorned with a small trans pride pin. “Kind of have a knack for picking up on certain cues.”

Seeing the pin seems to make Jon relax slightly, breathing out shakily. Then he sets his jaw and looks up at Tim again, serious.

“If you tell _anyone—_ ”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tim cuts him off, somewhat appalled that Jon would think so lowly of him. “Not even Sasha. It’s your choice who knows, the only reason I said anything is that you have a bit of a not-taking-proper-care-of-yourself streak, and based on your being here this does not seem to be an exception.”

Jon exhales sharply and hovers a hand protectively over his chest.

“Yes, well… thank you,” he says, surprising Tim. “I’ll take the rest of the week off, but I’m staying the rest of the day. Might as well get some work out of the way while I’m here.”

Tim sighs. While not ideal, he’s amazed he managed to get the man to agree to take any extra time off _at all_ , so he won’t push it.

“Let me know if you need help with anything else,” he says, and Jon hums, turning back to his computer. Tim returns to his own a moment later and continues to passively keep an eye on Jon for the rest of the day. 

Jon asks once for his help retrieving another file from the top drawer and then again at the end of the day for help returning the two files to their original places. Nothing more is said on the subject of Jon’s health and frankly, Tim is unsurprised. He’s just glad he was able to broach the subject without being chewed out for half an hour.

* * *

The next day Jon’s desk is vacant, and it remains so for the rest of the week. When their coworkers ask about his uncharacteristic absence, Tim doesn’t say a word.


End file.
